Yellow Brick Road
by labyrinths
Summary: Journey's end in lover's a meeting. Elizabeth Shaw and David head to find the Engineer's world.
1. Chapter 1

**Yellow Brick Road**

**By Hedge Labyrinth**

* * *

A series of drabbles as Elizabeth Shaw and David head to find the Engineer's world. Maybe some romance down the line.

* * *

"I could read to you."

Elizabeth didn't think she heard him right the first time. She turned to look at David.

"Excuse me?"

"You said you were bored. I could read to you."

She had said it. Not to him, really. She'd just said out loud, to the ship. As the weeks passed she was getting more and more accustomed to talking to herself in the loneliness of the cavernous vessel. She supposed hermits did the same. Not that she was completely alone: there was David. Though now that he was fully repaired — he had explained that unlike previous models, he was able to conduct all of his own maintenance procedures — she wished she was alone.

She didn't really trust him. Not completely. She'd taken to evading him. It was childish, of course, because they had to meet at some point, but she did it anyway.

"There are no books. Unless the Engineers packed a few."

"Earth books," David said, sliding down onto a large chair. "I have read plenty of them."

"And you remember them all?"

"Miss Shaw, I have a fluid intelligence equivalent to 200 petaflops. My memory is flawless."

"Ah."

"You don't believe me?"

Now that he was repaired he looked pretty close to human. Especially when his micro-articulating facial muscles formed into a smile like that. You could peg it for a real smile. You could peg it for real mirth. Camaraderie, even.

But it wasn't real. He wasn't real.

"No, I do…I just…I haven't had anyone read to me since I was a child. I don't—"

"One of the big trees had been partly chopped through, and standing beside it, with an uplifted axe in his hands, was a man made entirely of tin. His head and arms and legs were jointed upon his body, but he stood perfectly motionless, as if he could not stir at all. Dorothy looked at him in amazement, and so did the Scarecrow, while Toto—"

"Oh, God, please stop," she said jumping out of her seat.

He tilted his head and stared at her. His expression was blank.

"I thought you would like that. You heard it often as a child."

Yes, she did. Her father used to read it to her. Father was dead, just like mother, just like Charlie, just like everyone else. Everything Elizabeth loved died.

"You shouldn't have looked at my dreams," she spat out, furious.

He knew everything about her. Everything. She wished she could cut his head off again. She ought to have left his body on the surface.

David looked serenely at her and shrugged.

"It was my job to monitor all crew members."

Of course. He'd been programmed. He wasn't really guilty of anything. You can't blame a toaster for toasting bread any more than you could blame David for obeying orders.

But she was still angry.

"Did I offend you? It wasn't my goal to cause you any distress."

"No, it's fine," Elizabeth muttered. "Just…could you leave me alone for now?"

"Of course, Miss Shaw."

So courteous. If he'd been rude it would be easier. But he was ever the polite creation. Miss Shaw this, Miss that. And helpful, too. Concerned with her dietary needs, the temperature in her quarters, her damn boredom…this too must be programmed. He was made to serve.

He headed towards the door while she stared at her hands.

"Why did you take my cross?" she asked. "It was not contaminated."

He stopped and turned towards her, still serene and elegant.

"I do not know," he said.

She thought he was lying but she was not prepared to ask any more questions. Elizabeth leaned back and stared at the stars.


	2. Chapter 2

**Yellow Brick Road: Chapter 2**

* * *

"When Dorothy stood in the doorway and looked around, she could see nothing but the great gray prairie on every side. Not a tree nor a house broke the broad sweep of flat country that reached to the edge of the sky in all directions. The sun had baked the plowed land into a gray mass, with little cracks running through it. Even the grass was not green, for the sun had burned the tops of the long blades until they were the same gray color to be seen everywhere. Once the house had been painted, but the sun blistered the paint and the rains washed it away, and now the house was as dull and gray as everything else."  
― L. Frank Baum, _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_

* * *

Elizabeth had spent the first few days aboard the ship reeling from the pain in her abdomen. Afterwards, she busied herself with staying away from David, retreating to what she thought of, in a childish way, as her side of the ship.

In short, she'd had little time to pay attention to small details. Like his appearance.

But that morning, when she walked into the control room, she saw it clearly: his hair. It was still blond, but seemed to be precariously shifting into a dirty shade of blond.

"There's something different about your hair," she said, frowning.

"I dyed it aboard the Prometheus. It's simply growing out," he replied.

"Your hair grows out? Isn't it...synthetic?"

"I am a biosynthetic organism. I can even eat food, if I wish, though it is not necessary."

Androids dying their hair. Charlie would have had a field day with that. Charlie didn't like them. He didn't trust them. Elizabeth disagreed with him.

Now she wasn't sure about her position. There was something about David which made her uneasy. Her fears were not helped by her almost complete incapacity to take care of herself. She depended on David. He understood the Engineer's language, the mechanics of the ship; he could read the star charts. Without him, she'd be completely lost.

She didn't like that feeling.

"Why would you dye your hair?" she asked, curious about this eccentricity.

"There was a man in a movie...I liked his hair."

Elizabeth didn't know what to say about that. She didn't realize androids could "like" or "dislike" something.

"Do you watch films, Miss Shaw? I enjoy old films."

"I'm afraid I haven't watched too many of them."

"I watched a number of them aboard the Prometheus," David said. "It was the first time I saw silent films."

"Oh, I've heard about that," she said.

"They are terribly interesting. Because there was no audio the performers had to emote in particular ways. Their expressions were very exaggerated. I made a point to study them. It helps me refine my emotion-response pathways."

Elizabeth remembered seeing the ads for androids back on Earth. Or, as the brochures put it, cybernetic individuals. There was all this talk about emotion simulation and interpretation of human emotional states. She had never thought much about what it must take to pretend to smile or frown, until now.

"There was a film in particular...a comedy. There is a man, in the Yukon. He is in a cabin. The man is hungry but there is nothing to eat. He boils his shoe and eats the shoelace, acting as though it was a fine, delectable meal. He pretends the shoelace is spaghetti."

Elizabeth didn't think the movie sounded _that_ funny. One day she might be reduced to eating her shoes. David said it would take them three years to reach the Engineer's planet and the ship carried enough supplies to last them twice that time. But something might go wrong and without Elizabeth's daily ration of goop, she'd starve quite quickly.

Of course, she could always try to slip into one of the hypersleep pods on board, but that thought didn't sit too well with her.

"It sounds bizarre," Elizabeth said.

"Have you seen _Lawrence of Arabia_?" David asked.

His eyebrows raised a little bit, the corners of his mouth upturning into something that mimicked...joy.

It was a child's enthusiasm. Elizabeth glanced away from him.

"No."

"I'll have to tell you about it, sometime."

He sounded like he honestly wanted to share his little movie with her. It irritated Elizabeth. They were not buddies getting together for a flick and afterwards a beer at the bar.

"What did you do besides watch films while we were sleeping? Oh, and spy my dreams," she said pointedly.

"I played basketball and chess," he said, avoiding her accusations with his customary grace. "I listened to music."

Well, they had none of that aboard this ship. Whatever the Engineer's liked to do, it certainly did not seem to include the concept of entertainment. All Elizabeth could do was stare at the walls, the convoluted star maps, or the stars themselves.

Her irritation was building and for no reason at all. Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried to calm down. The boredom was not his fault and she had decided, after all, to find the Engineer's home world rather than return to the safety of Earth. What was that saying? You can never go home again.

"I don't know how to play chess," she said.

Her mother had promised she'd teach her. She was a good player. But then she'd died and Elizabeth had never taken it up.

Elizabeth looked at the stars ahead of them. When she was a child she'd thought the sky was a piece of black felt and stars were little pinpricks in the heavens.

She sat in the pilot's sit, though she could not maneuver the vessel, and drummed her fingers slowly. Finally she pushed herself up and headed to the door.

"You need to teach me the Engineer's language," she said.

"It might take some time," he said.

"All we have is time," Elizabeth replied, shrugging.

She took a couple of steps before he raised his voice again.

"I can also teach you to play chess," he said.

Elizabeth frowned, her hand resting by the door.

"Fine," she said.


	3. Chapter 3

**Yellow Brick Road: Chapter 3  
**

* * *

"_Stars are beautiful, but they may not take part in anything, they must just look on forever."_

― _J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan_

* * *

Elizabeth has lost her dreams. Her nights – Nights? Did it make sense to think of nights and days now? – were a blank slate. The issue was the time before bed, when her waking mind would plague her with thousands of questions.

She thought of Charlie. Alive. Folded in pain. Burning. She thought of her father. She thought of the thing that had grown in her womb. She thought of all the terror and destruction she had experienced. The images curled around her mind, burrowed into her eyes. The result was a steady insomnia.

Restless, she began to pace her quarters; the hallways of the ship. She was afraid when she walked alone, afraid of the walls and the doors and the shadows upon the floor. Her memories frightened her more.

One night she drifted into the control room, fueled by the random impulse to stare at the stars.

Elizabeth found a holographic chess board floating in the centre of the room. She picked one of the pieces, a finely designed horse. The attention to detail was staggering. She could see the veins on the horse's neck, the fine mane. And over there, a tower with a door and windows and a standard flowing in the wind.

"Their holographic technology is more complex than I anticipated," David said as he walked in. "I'm afraid the board is not in its final state."

"It looks fine to me," she said. "It looks very good."

"It is not perfect."

Perfect. Yes. He was a machine, so of course it would have to be perfect. Like him. Elizabeth glanced at David and wondered who had come up with the schematics for his face; who had picked that specific shade of blue for his eyes.

"Miss Shaw, despite the board's…flaws," he said, his words very neat and emphasized, "would you like to play with me now? You said you would."

He sounded almost like a boy. A boy who has been told they may go to the playground if the rain ceases.

"I will," she said.

Pleasure, or rather, the mimicry of pleasure, washed over David's face. He reached towards the board.

"I'll play if you answer three questions for me."

Elizabeth stretched her hand, fingers settling around the holographic figure of the queen.

"I did not know the game involved questions," David said.

"Well, it does this time," she said.

"Very well."

He reached for the pieces, shifting them back into their right spot. Rooks and pawns and horses, all into their proper square.

"Did you poison Charlie?"

"I gave him a small amount of the fluid we found in the Engineer's chamber," David replied, without inflection. "I did not realize it would kill him."

"It sounds like an exceedingly foolish thing to do," Elizabeth said. "Who ordered you to do it?"

He extended his hand and she handed him the queen. He put it in her square.

"Mr. Weyland. He was dreadfully afraid of dying. The properties of the fluid…well, it made him think it might extend his life. That it might be a life giving elixir rather than a destructive substance."

Elizabeth had thought this was the case – he was only a robot, only following programming – but it might have been Vickers who gave the orders. She wasn't sure why it mattered. It just did.

"Why did you pick Charlie for your little experiment?"

She stared at him across the board and he stared back at her.

"The opportunity arose."

If he had been human she might have slapped him. Kicked him. There was no point in attacking him. He wouldn't understand, he wouldn't _know_. You can't make the stove feel bad because it burned your fingers.

"Why did you take my cross?"

"That makes four questions," he said gingerly. "You said three."

He lowered the board so that it was at her height and tilted his head a little.

"Would you like the white pieces or the black ones?"

#

David was showing her the star charts. Elizabeth had insisted on looking at them, on learning how they worked. She was puzzled and overwhelmed. She was no pilot. But she needed to do this.

When he was done showing her the course they were following he placed his hands behind his back and smiled.

"Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning," he said.

"I'm sorry?" she asked.

"Peter Pan. J. M. Barrie."

"I know what Peter Pan is," Elizabeth said. "But why did you say that?"

"During the voyage of the Prometheus I often repeated certain phrases aloud. It made the trip more—"

"Bearable?"

"Less routinary," he concluded.

Elizabeth could not phantom how a computer might find itself bored, thought that seemed to be what David was hinting at. Or perhaps not. Perhaps she was misunderstanding. There was so much she did not know about androids.

"I thought you would like your routines."

"I follow my routines most efficiently, Miss Elizabeth."

"You should stop calling me Miss Elizabeth. It sounds odd."

"Miss Vickers insisted on following proper protocol."

"Miss Vickers is dead."

_Everyone is dead_, she thought. The star display shifted and moved around them. She waved her hand across the controls, making it disappear. At least she could do as much.

"What should I call you?" he asked.

Ellie. That's what her family called her. Charlie also called her Ellie. David wasn't family and he wasn't Charlie. He could go by her given name.

"Elizabeth, I suppose," she muttered.

David seemed to ponder this.

"Elizabeth," he said, as if trying out the name.

It sounded odd coming from his lips. A little unpleasant. But it was more unpleasant to hear him calling her 'Miss' all the time. Like she was his owner and he was her dog. She supposed that was the case. Without Weyland, David needed someone to give him orders. To show him the way. To give him a purpose.

_And who gives you a purpose, Elizabeth?_ she thought.

"Elizabeth, may I ask a personal question?"

"Yes?"

"Are you getting enough sleep? There are dark circles under your eyes and you seem tired, perhaps—"

"I'm not sleeping much, no."

"Do you have bad dreams?"

"No," she said.

_Just bad thoughts_, she mused. _Just sad thoughts_.

David nodded. He was standing in profile, face serene. He looked like a statue, all pale marble.

"Do you dream?" she asked.

"No. I do not," he said.

Perhaps that was why he looked at her dreams. Because he had none of this own and he had to steal them. Well, Elizabeth had no more dreams to give.

"I can read to you," he offered, "if it might help you go to sleep. Do you enjoy H. G. Wells?"

There was something that resembled hope in his eyes. Christ, whoever had designed him had been so cruel, giving such mannerisms to a creature of cadmium alloy and synthetic skin.

"What were you thinking?" she asked.

He sat down on the floor, by her chair.

"We follow chronological order, starting with _The Time Machine_."


	4. Chapter 4

**Yellow Brick Road: Chapter 4  
**

* * *

"The sea is everything. It covers seven tenths of the terrestrial globe. Its breath is pure and healthy. It is an immense desert, where man is never lonely, for he feels life stirring on all sides. The sea is only the embodiment of a supernatural and wonderful existence. It is nothing but love and emotion; it is the Living Infinite. "  
_― __J__ules Verne__, __Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea_

* * *

The Engineer's characters danced before her eyes, outlines of green and blue fading as she moved her hand and pulled up another set of words.

It was difficult, this process, yes. But also invigorating.

"You are progressing at a good pace," David said, circling her chair. "I am impressed."

"I spoke English, French and Igbo by the time I was six," she said. "My father said if you are exposed to multiple languages at an early age you'll pick them up quite easily."

Charlie was not good with languages. He struggled with them. Sometimes this led to a certain rivalry with Elizabeth. Charlie never liked being second best. It wasn't like he was unpleasant about it, but it was there: the desire to be number one, to reign supreme over others. Even over Elizabeth. Elizabeth, for her part, was not competitive. Curiosity and a pure desire for knowledge drove her to speak so many tongues. It drove her in her studies. It carried it all through her career.

It was the same now. She simply wanted to learn. Yes, she wanted her independence. She didn't want to be shackled to David for every single thing she needed, but she also just wanted to _know_.

"Exposure to multiple languages early in life develops your grey matter. It increases plasticity. Of course, that doesn't matter in my case. I am fluent in all known languages through a dialectic implant and can infer the linguistic components of entirely new languages with ease."

Elizabeth smirked and shifted in the navigator's seat, unfolding another set of characters. He wasn't bragging. He was merely explaining himself. She'd learned as much by now.

"I speak Spanish to God, Italian to Women, French to Men, and German to my Horse," she said, feeling rather cheery that day.

"That makes no sense," David replied, looking very serious. "If your God is omnipotent, would he not understand all languages?"

"It's a famous saying by Charles V."

David seemed to consider this, placing a hand under his chin and nodding.

"It still does not make sense. What would you speak to me? I am not a man and Miss Vickers often said I could not rise to the level of an animal."

Elizabeth paused, pushing the screen she had been working on and looked at David. He did not seem irritated or upset, delivering the statement...well, rather factually.

"Was Miss Vickers unpleasant to you?"

"It is hardly relevant," David said with a shrug. "She was Mr. Weyland's daughter and I was programmed to obey her commands as long as they did not interfere with my primary mandate, dictated by Mr. Weyland. He always had control of my primary directive."

Elizabeth had not realized Vickers was related to Weyland. Now that she thought about the tall, blond woman, Elizabeth came to the realization that Vickers had a certain physical resemblance to David. Had Weyland fabricated an android that could pass as his son, a man who resembled him? Or had David been intended as a counterpart to Vickers? Her unborn male twin. Either option held disturbing implications.

"But she didn't like you."

"Few people 'like' androids."

Elizabeth supposed he was right. Charlie certainly never enjoyed their company. He said it was because they were mindless slave labour, but Elizabeth thought there was something more to it. A more visceral response to them which bordered on disgust.

David looked down, then raised his gaze and stared at her.

"Mr. Weyland liked me."

"Oh," Elizabeth said.

"He did not have a son. He said I made up for that."

"But you still wished he'd die."

"No," David said. "Miss Vickers wished he'd die."

_Probably with good reason_ , Elizabeth thought. That selfish old man had murdered Charlie. David had been his instrument, but he had wielded the knife.

"He was not a good man," David clarified, as though he could divine her thoughts. "But it did not matter."

Elizabeth bit her lower lip. There was nothing in his expression nor his face to betray emotion, but the blueness of his eyes made her shift her weight and look away from him.

#

David had finished reading four H. G. Wells novels and had started on the first book by Jules Verne when she touched him for the first time. Well, technically Elizabeth had touched him before, when she helped him repair himself, and before that, on the Prometheus. But she had steered clear from him since then.

There was nothing odd or curious about the way she touched David. He was reading and she was yawning, so she stretched a hand and patted his shoulder gently.

"David, I am going to sleep," she said.

He nodded. Elizabeth left him behind in the control room.

It wasn't until later that she remembered this detail.

#

Elizabeth dreamt she was walking through a jungle, thick trees all around her, half-obscuring the sky. Plants and flowers and a greenness multiplied before her eyes. It reminded her of her time in Mexico, when she was excavating with Charlie in Chiapas.

But it was not Mexico and when she looked sideways she saw it wasn't Charlie with her.

No, it was somewhere else, somewhere she'd never been before. And the man walking with her was David.

He wasn't dressed like David and the lack of his uniform made her pause. He was dressed like a civilian, in white, though a red scarf was loosely knotted around his throat.

They emerged onto a clearing and she looked up, spotting twin moons in the sky.

She realized they were holding hands.

When she woke up she remembered the dream; the first dream she could remember since the Prometheus.

She also realized that earlier that day she had touched his shoulder.


	5. Chapter 5

**Yellow Brick Road: Chapter 5**

* * *

"All human wisdom is contained in these two words – Wait and Hope."  
― Alexandre Dumas, _The Count of Monte Cristo_

* * *

The ship was large, cold and unsettling. Walking through it was like journeying through the belly of a beast. Elizabeth thought of Jonah and the great whale. _Salvation comes from the Lord_, Elizabeth would mutter, echoing Jonah's words, when the immensity of their vessel and the memory of the kind of creatures it could harbour (the scar upon her belly, a constant reminder of such horrors) would strike her.

There was only one place aboard that seemed comfortable: the baths. Clear circular pools dotted a large room and Elizabeth could sit there, in the warm water, for long stretches of time, just soaking and thinking.

Elizabeth threw her head back and closed her eyes, considering what lay ahead for the rest of the day. Language lessons with David. Chess. Talks about the ships instruments and navigation mechanism. Reading. They'd finished with Dumas the previous day.

Elizabeth couldn't help but think her situation resembled _One Thousand Nights. _But if David was Scheherazade that might make her the Sultan which did not seem fitting. Plus, David had lost his head before the beginning of the story.

Elizabeth slapped the surface of the water and rose. She wrapped herself in a grey robe. David had found a whole bunch of them on the ship. They had probably belonged to the Engineers. The robe was too big for Elizabeth, even when she'd chopped a great deal of the bottom off, but nobody was watching her.

Except David and he wouldn't care what she wore.

David has also found a couple of large, dark suits of armour which seemed of a decidedly biomechanical bent. They looked like they were carved out of bones. He told her he might be able to alter one to fit her small frame, but Elizabeth declined. Perhaps she might change her mind, once they reached the Engineer's planet: she might need its protection.

Elizabeth walked towards the control room, leaving moist footsteps behind. When she entered David, busy with a chart, turned to her and raised his gaze.

"You are an hour late."

"David, there are no clocks on this ship."

"You are still an hour late."

Elizabeth sat on the floor, little water droplets sliding down her neck, and shrugged.

"Have I missed my reading hour, then?" she asked.

"No."

"We are starting something new today, aren't we?" she said looking at her fingers, all wrinkled after her long bath. David's skin probably didn't prune after he bathed. Not that she knew if he bathed. He must. He was always neat and clean. If he hadn't been an android she might have thought him vain.

But then...wasn't water bad for circuitry? Could David soak in the pools of water without harm? That line of thought led her to consider David naked and she shook her head, trying hard not to blush.

"I have some suggestions," David said. "Though I should ask first if you have a particular title in mind."

"Not really."

"What is your favourite book?"

She realized they hadn't actually discussed this. It surprised her. She might have balked at telling him before, but the answer came easy now.

"It's actually a play," Elizabeth said. "_The Tempest_."

"We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep."

"Yes," Elizabeth said, smiling.

"May I ask why you like it?"

"When I was a child I thought it would be terribly romantic to be stranded upon a deserted island with nothing but books," she said. "I used to picture myself landing upon some distant beach and heading inland, towards some fantastic jungle. I'd dream about it, sometimes."

Elizabeth paused, thinking of when she was little. Of Africa, now so distant. All the different places she'd been with her father. He'd been a restless man. It was natural he'd have a restless daughter who found the edges of Earth too confining.

"Charlie had a completely different dream. He was an adventurer. Reckless. One time, when we were in Australia, he dove into a pool infested with leeches. I warned him about it but he wouldn't listen. When he came out there were leeches fastened to his legs. I didn't have any salt with me so I couldn't just sprinkle it on them and force them to detach. Finally I found someone who lent me a cigarette and I burned them off. He laughed all through it. He was an ass."

Elizabeth smiled, the memory of Charlie's laughter very clear in her mind.

"Did you care for Mr. Holloway though he was 'an ass'?"

"I loved Charlie," she said, looking up at David. "He wasn't perfect. I loved him."

David tilted his head and she wondered if he was correlating information, trying to make sense of this explanation.

_Flaws_, she thought. _Flaws make us human_.

"Then I am sorry Mr. Holloway is dead," David said very properly.

Elizabeth sighed, curling her hand into a fist and resting it atop her knee. Her eyes were starting to get dangerously moist at the thought of Charlie.

"You are not sorry, David," she said. "And that is okay."

"I do not like seeing you in distress. Ergo, if Charlie's death caused you distress, then I am sorry."

Elizabeth did not know what to say to that. Her hand began shaking, just a slight tremble and she could feel the tears welling. David sat down next to her. He placed a hand atop hers, very casually.

She stopped shaking and blinked.

They didn't say anything. Eventually David lifted her hand and turned it, looking at her still wrinkled fingers with interest. After a while, Elizabeth grabbed his hand and also turned it, palm up. She noticed the tiny little 'W' on his fingertip. Weyland Industries.

"Did Weyland base you on a human template?" she asked.

"Mr. Weyland thought his son might have looked like me, had he lived."

Yes. She thought there was something of Weyland and something of Vickers in David. The proud face. Handsome features. Something about the eyes, though not the colour. David's eyes were a unique shade of blue.

"It must have been difficult for his daughter to know this," Elizabeth said.

"Miss Vickers didn't like it."

"I can't imagine my father doing something like that."

"Mr. Weyland wasn't perfect," David said.

Elizabeth nodded. He laced her fingers with his own and they drifted again into silence.


	6. Chapter 6

**Yellow Brick Road: Chapter 6**

* * *

"And the secret garden bloomed and bloomed and every morning revealed new miracles."  
― Frances Hodgson Burnett, _The Secret Garden_

* * *

A year. She could not believe they had been traveling together for a year. It was Christmas Day – David had no problem keeping track of the days, even when she couldn't keep the hours straight.

One year. She could play chess now. She had a rudimentary, though still mediocre grasp of the Engineer's language. She no longer felt lost in the control room. He had read her 39 books.

And it was Christmas. Another Christmas far from Earth, far from the twinkling lights of the Christmas trees and the pretty glass ornaments. If they were on Earth she'd be throwing a Christmas party. Elizabeth would don a nice dress and heels and drink too much champagne. David...well, she wasn't sure what David would be doing. She tried to picture him in a formal suit, even a tux. But androids did not go to parties and she couldn't phantom _why_ he'd even be at _her_ party.

Elizabeth leaned against a console, staring at the stars.

"So much for presents and mistletoe," Elizabeth said. "I didn't care for the mistletoe. I liked the presents with the nice wrapping paper and the little bows."

Elizabeth smiled and patted David's arm.

"Well, at any rate, Merry Christmas, David."

"Would you still like a present even if it didn't come with wrapping paper?" he said.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I can answer your question."

Elizabeth frowned, confused.

"What question?"

"A few months back you asked me why I took your cross."

Oh. She'd nearly forgotten about that. It felt like she'd spent so much time aboard the ship. Prometheus was starting to become a blurred memory.

For a moment Elizabeth wondered if she even wanted to know, and then–

"Tell me," she said.

"I have an excellent memory. I can instantly recognizes the tone and timbre of a new voice and register it in my database. I can memorize faces with the same fluidity."

David paused. He seemed to hesitate and this struck her as odd. David was always very certain of himself. He did not bumble with his words like a human might. Speaking came easy to him.

"I did not know what would happen to you. I took it as a mnemonic device."

_A mnemonic device._ Elizabeth's eyes widened as she realized what he meant. He'd taken it as a memento, like an old fashioned suitor might take a locket of hair.

Elizabeth crossed her arms, considering this. Was this...normal? It didn't seem very logical.

"Why would you want to remember me?" she asked. "You hardly knew me."

"I knew you."

"We saw each other for about five seconds before I boarded the ship."

He glanced at her, impassive. And the she remembered: her dreams. He'd seen her dreams. He probably knew her, at least to a certain extent. It was...creepy.

"I found you interesting," David said, sliding his hands in his pockets. "Besides, it was more than five seconds. It was a full minute."

This was even creepier.

"I read your file before we boarded. I saw your video message to Mr. Weyland. It was compelling," David said, as though that could explain his odd behaviour.

"David, you don't even realize how inappropriate you are," Elizabeth muttered.

"Will it bother you if I say something else?"

Elizabeth shrugged wondering what other erratic behaviour he could bring to light.

"I like you, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth rested a hand against the console to steady herself because she had the sudden sensation that she was about to lose her balance.

"I like reading and chess. I like _Lawrence of Arabia_ and playing basketball. I've decided I also like you."

It sounded like a shopping list. Milk, eggs...oh and a side of Elizabeth. David smiled and Elizabeth couldn't smile back.

"Is that inappropriate?" he asked, suddenly looking quite concerned.

"No," Elizabeth said, shaking her head. "I mean, yes."

"Which is it?"

"Both."

"That doesn't make sense."

Elizabeth pressed a hand against her forehead. She felt warm. She knew her cheeks were flushed and she despised herself for such a childish reaction.

"I'm tired," she lied. "Good night, David."

#

Elizabeth readied herself for bed. She took off her robe and looked down at her belly. She ran her fingers over her scar. She didn't mind it. It was a reminder of what had happened. Sometimes people need reminders.

David needed them, didn't he?

Elizabeth sat down on the low bed, palms resting against its surface. She tried to recall what she knew about androids. From what she recalled they couldn't really form attachments. They might obey commands and simulate emotions, but they couldn't really care for anyone. They couldn't _like _people. What was it that Charlie had once said to her? Androids are just toasters with two legs?

But David liked things, didn't he? He took pleasure in reciting books to her, in looking at the stars, in their conversations. He was not just a toaster with two legs.

_He is my friend now_ , she thought.

Th is idea was very scary. She'd grown attached to him.

_And he to me_.

She had no idea which was worse.

Elizabeth tossed and turned, and wished for sleep.

#

It had taken her a couple of hours but she'd finally retraced her steps and walked back to the control room. The grey robe hung loose around Elizabeth's body and her hair – it was growing quickly – was wild. David was still there. He looked up when she walked in.

"Did you like anyone else? Mr. Weyland, for example?" she asked.

"I admired Mr. Weyland. He was a genius. He designed me," he said smoothly.

Elizabeth bit her lower lip and watched him silhouetted against the dark blue space, millions of stars watching them.

"You are changing and it's frightening," she said. "Have you realized that?"

"I am meant to learn. Change may happen with the acquisition of knowledge."

Elizabeth laughed half-heartedly, hugging herself.

"Do you understand, David, what it means to care for someone?"

The look in his eyes was like the darkness outside the ship: immense and all-encompasing.

"I might," he said.

Her heart fluttered unpleasantly in her chest, like an old music box slowly creaking and releasing a song.

"I could use a story, David," she said, sitting down on the floor, searching for something routinary and expected.

"Very well," he said and he sat down by her side, extending his legs. "When Mary Lennox was sent to Misselthwaite Manor to live with her uncle everybody said she was the most disagreeable-looking child ever seen. It was true, too. She had a little thin face and a little thin body, thin light hair and a sour expression..."


	7. Chapter 7

**Yellow Brick Road: Chapter 7**

* * *

"Sometimes one has suffered enough to have the right to never say: I am too happy."  
― Alexandre Dumas, _The Black Tulip_

* * *

His hair had grown out. It was darker now instead of an implausible platinum blond. Tarnished gold instead of a freshly minted coin. The hair was longer too. She had never liked long hair in a man. But David still looked handsome. Handsomer, even.

_Tin and wire_, Charlie had said. That's all androids are. Cheap sleigh of hand. That might be true, but David seemed awfully real.

"Why did you dye your hair?" she asked while they were having dinner in the control room – Elizabeth had once tried eating in what might have been a dining hall but the place was too large and eerie; the cabin or her room worked fine. Well, she was having dinner. David merely sat next to her while Elizabeth stuck a spoon into the ugly goop that passed for food on the ship. The Engineer's might have been smart, but their food was tasteless.

"I was trying to match Peter O'Toole's hair colouring in _Lawrence of Arabia_."

"You've mentioned that movie. Is it any good?"

"It is very good. I watched it 67 times aboard the Prometheus."

Elizabeth pushed some more mush into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully, her brows knitting together.

"Why?" she asked.

Hesitation was not one of David's common reactions. He knew what he was doing and he did it. But he paused, as if considering a particularly difficult chess move, his lips tightly pressed together.

"There are many things that interest me, which I file away in an appropriate folder for further investigation. The movie was an item I revisited often because it merited more attention. It was the performance which I found interesting. O'Toole was a great actor. He could convey many emotions with the smallest of gestures. I thought I could learn from him and expand my repertoire."

"So it was educational, not just simple pleasure?"

"Certain things can be both."

"Aha," she said.

"Take you, for example," he said.

"How?" Elizabeth asked, scraping the bottom of her bowl.

"I learn from you and I enjoy your company."

"What have you learned from me?"

"Hope."

Elizabeth thought he was going to say facial expressions or vocal pattern recognition. Hope…was such an abstract concept and one which seemed so alien for a synthetic being.

"Hope? How?"

"There was a loop in my head, for a rather long time. One of my primary functions is to inspire trust in humans. It is why I was built the way I am. Trust allows for the achievement of the objectives I am completing. Trust is a complex human emotion, but I can easily garner it through precise verbal cues, pupil dilation and controlled facial movement.

"In your cause, however, the chain of events aboard the Prometheus made trust very difficult. My attempts at inspiring such a feeling in you met with repeat failure."

Elizabeth thought back at their first few weeks aboard the ship, at her desire to stay away from him. Her skittishness around him.

"Failure, however, is not an option for my model. Thus every time I failed I would attempt to show the appropriate cues, to inspire that trust, and fail again. It was a never-ending loop. Then I read _The Count of Montecristo_ and we talked about it, do you remember?"

"Yes," Elizabeth said.

"You said Edmund's final lesson is that human beings must simply resign themselves to allowing God to reward and punish. They must wait and hope for God to dispense justice."

"Correct."

"The answer to my problem was that: I could only hope one day you would trust me. And there is no verbal cue or facial movement which can determine this outcome. Once I could accept that, the loop ceased."

David's face was very placid. He wore the same mask of serenity he often wore about her. The eyes, however, shone with a hidden intensity.

"There is only hope, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth rubbed her thumb across the surface of her spoon. She looked at it, carefully inspecting it, looking for dents and scratches, before finally looking up at David.

"You are the most curious android I have ever met," Elizabeth said.

"Have you met very many androids, hmmm?"

David smiled and Elizabeth chuckled at the obvious joke. It wasn't half-bad as attempts at humour went.

"God, I'm insane," Elizabeth muttered, though she was smiling. "Look, you are my friend. At least until you try to murder me again."

"And then we'll have to re-evaluate?" he asked her, the corners of his mouth lifting into another of his smiles.

Elizabeth elbowed him in the ribs, hard. He probably hadn't even felt it though she derived some childish satisfaction from the gesture.

David hummed a tune, something vague and pleasant which she could not make out. As Elizabeth sat there by his side she realized she was happy. Very happy. It was a bit of a shock for she had not felt truly happy or truly at ease since she had left Earth. It felt wonderful.

It was also terrifying because all joy must end one day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Yellow Brick Road: Chapter 8**

* * *

April is the cruellest month, breeding  
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing  
Memory and desire, stirring  
Dull roots with spring rain.  
― T. S. Eliot, The Waste Land

* * *

February brought nightmares. Bizarre, fragmented dreams of Charlie. Charlie, a burnt corpse, dragging himself into her room and into her bed. Elizabeth woke up from those dreams with the stench of seared flesh in her nostrils.

There were other dreams in which the monster in her belly tore its was out of her womb, gnawing at her entrails. Elizabeth always checked her belly, staring at her scar, after those dreams.

There were other dreams too. In some, the Engineer chocked her. In others, it was David who pressed his hands around her throat.

David asked her if she was having nightmares – he'd heard Elizabeth scream during the night more than once, she knew that – but she wouldn't tell him. He'd seen her dreams before and she did not want to share them anymore. There was nothing he could do about them, anyway.

Towards the end of spring David constructed hollographic flowers and blades of grass for her, inspired by a casual comment Elizabeth had made a few days before. Elizabeth looked up at the projected images and plucked a daisy, wondering if she'd ever see real flowers again. They were halfway to their destination, but who knew what they'd find. This whole expedition was madness. She knew it and sometimes rued her decision.

"You know what I miss most from Earth?" Elizabeth asked, sitting down on the floor, by a console, and letting go of the flower.

"What do you miss?"

"The rain in April. There is nothing quite like walking out in spring and getting caught in the rain."

"Wouldn't that be unpleasant?" David asked. "And could it not be avoided by simply looking at the weather forecast?"

"You can't control everything," Elizabeth said. "Sometimes you go with the moment."

David gave her a dignified, skeptical stare. It made her laugh.

"You'd count the angels dancing on a pin, wouldn't you?" she said.

"You are making fun of a philosophical question posed in the Middle Ages," David said smoothly. "In truth I think it would be quite easy to count the angels if you simply substitute atoms for angels."

"Ha."

Elizabeth threw her head back. Time was turning sluggish in the metal confines of the ship. Sometimes she felt she'd lived here for ages and ages, and the Prometheus had been nothing but a story she'd made up. Especially at times like these when the minutes seemed to simply stop for them.

"What are you thinking?" she asked because there was nothing to do but trade questions as they drifted through the endless night.

"Something Mark Twain said about spring and not knowing what you want."

She was going to ask him to elaborate because that is what they did; spiral into complex conversations that started nowhere and ended nowhere. But then she felt his fingers running against her jaw, tracing the curve of it and the subtle movement erased the words from her tongue.

She was imagining it. It was a mechanical malfunction. It was–

A kiss. Neatly planted on the corner of her lips. Nothing offensive about the gesture for it was quite innocent.

Elizabeth turned to look at David in utter shock. He seemed completely at ease, his face exhibiting his usual smooth, pleasant expression.

"What are you doing?" she managed to croak.

"You are lonely," he stated simply.

"Yes, sometimes. Anyone would be lonely. That doesn't mean–"

"And you like me," he said nonchalantly. "I am given to understand–"

"I am not a miner on an asteroid looking to buy a pleasurebot," Elizabeth said.

Elizabeth recalled seeing ads on Earth for one specific basic pleasure model. The Pris 6. There was something incredibly cheap and..._mean_ about the pictures showing a young woman in a skin-tight white suit. Especially when you looked at the little captions and read "B Mental Capacity." She understood why Charlie didn't like androids when she saw things like that.

David placed a hand on her shoulder but she stood up, shrugging him away. Elizabeth took two steps back and rubbed her forehead. Her throat felt dry and there was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Your company is appreciated and I am glad you are here but –"

"You yell at nights," he said. "Not now and then, but every single night for over a month now. There is such a thing as Delayed Posttraumatic Stress Disorder."

"And the diagnosis includes that I fuck you to get better?"

He stood up, looking down at her with very blue, very calm eyes.

"I find it difficult to understand you at times," he said. "I am not trying to offend you."

Elizabeth did not reply. She pressed a hand against her stomach. She could feel the scar beneath the clothing.

"I am...attempting to be your friend. We are friends, you've said."

"That doesn't change certain things."

_It wouldn't be real_ , she thought. It would just be another science experiment for him. Some new way to mine data, to analyze how humans ticked. Part of Elizabeth thought it wouldn't be such a bad idea. That she might not feel so scared if someone could hold her through the nights. The other part was certain it would cause her more pain.

_What would Charlie say?_

"You cannot feel real emotion, can you?" she asked.

"No," he said simply.

"You don't simulate love, David. You just don't."

Elizabeth glanced at the pretty flowers he had made for her and headed towards the exit.

"It does not mean I do not find you fascinating," he told her.

Elizabeth turned to look at him, their eyes meeting across the control room.

"And I you," she admitted.


	9. Chapter 9

**Yellow Brick Road: Chapter 9**

* * *

"Would the world ever have been made if its maker had been afraid of making trouble? Making life means making trouble. There's only one way of escaping trouble; and that's killing things."  
― George Bernard Shaw, _Pygmalion_

* * *

Elizabeth felt a hand falling over her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open and she saw David leaning over her. Sleep dislocated her and for a few seconds she forgot where she was, beheld only him, before snapping into lucidity. She was in her room. He didn't go into her quarters. Something was wrong.

"Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I need you to wake up and follow me back to the bridge."

"What is it?" she asked.

"Better come with me."

He did not seem concerned yet there was something under the surface which bothered him. Elizabeth pushed herself out of bed. She was only in her underwear. Modesty had fled a long time ago and she found it odd when he averted his eyes. Elizabeth reached for her clothes and dressed quickly, then followed him into the control room.

David moved towards a console, fingers flitting across buttons. A green glow spread all around, green shards...pictograms, symbols, dancing above her head. Sound boomed around them. Not words. More like...musical notes. Sharp, precise.

"What is that?" she asked.

"It's a transmission. There is a ship nearby and I picked up a message it was sending to someone else. The transmission is not human."

"Can you understand it?"

"It's encoded, so no. I can decode it, later. However, that is not the point. We must be reaching their shipping lanes."

David looked at her pointedly. Elizabeth shook her head, confused.

"Yes, and so?"

"We could still change our course."

She blinked. She felt as though he had slapped her with those few words.

"You mean turn back. You are talking about turning back," she said.

"I am talking about reaching the point of no return. If we venture forward, we are bound to meet vessels from the Engineer's civilization."

"That is exactly why we are here," Elizabeth said.

"You made a choice in the heat of the moment. I thought perhaps these last few months might have triggered a more...rational course."

She scoffed, offended at his doubts and walked towards him, until they were inches apart.

"Are you afraid?" she asked, looking up at him, into his clear blue eyes.

"I cannot fear. However, I think the odds are not in our favor."

"You didn't have to come with me."

She knew how childish that sounded. What else could he do? Perhaps Elizabeth might have repaired him, then sent him on his way in one of the other ships. If another ship was working. And if she could navigate her way to the Engineer's world by herself. Unlikely.

"David, I need to know," she said.

"I'd like to know too," he said. "However, I'd also like you to understand you do have a _choice_. We could turn back. Today."

"Then everyone will be dead for nothing."

She closed her eyes and thought about Charlie. Their research. Their dreams. She thought about Fifefield and Millburn. Even about Vickers and Weyland. What was it all for? Was it meaningless? Death with no rhyme or reason? There must be a purpose. A goal. A destination. Otherwise...otherwise all that was left was chaos and destruction.

"What, if not this? Return to Earth, get an apartment, become roommates? Dear God, the banality of it," she said.

She felt his hands upon her arms.

"_Live_ seems like a viable option," he said.

Live. Charlie had wanted that, once. He'd wanted kids (which she could not give to him) and a house with a white picket fence and even a dog. Charlie was adventurous and reckless, but he knew one day he'd be tired of the endless back and forth, of digs and shuffling across the globe. Elizabeth could never see herself stopping, resting, ceasing to be in motion. Like an object in space, all she could do was go on and on. Constant velocity. Now, without Charlie, what was _live_?

"David, what does 'live' matter to someone who can't die? What does it mean?" she shot back.

"I exist and do not look forward to my termination. There are sights I'd like to see."

Elizabeth looked up at him, so earnest and serious.

"I won't think you a coward," he said.

"Don't think me brave, either," she said.

Elizabeth sighed. Maybe Earth wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe there were other life-bearing planets were they might stop. Stay for a year or two and just enjoy the sights. Forget about this silly mission and eventually turn back home. But no. Elizabeth needed to fly close to the sun, even if it burnt her.

"I never asked you if you wanted to join me," she told him. "I assumed you'd come. I suppose that makes me as bad as Weyland and Vickers, simply ordering you around, simply thinking you'd serve and you'd have no goals of your own..."

"It's fine. I wanted to see where you would go and what you could accomplish."

"And now? Would you still like to stay with me?"

Davis smirked a very human smirk.

"Seeing that death, a necessary end, will come when it will come," he said, his voice smooth. "I'd like to see this particular ending."

Elizabeth glanced down, resting a palm against his chest.

"Well then, it is settled," she said.

She pulled her hand away. David caught it and held it in place.

The green glow of the control room draped odd shadows across his face. It did not make him ugly, but some of the artificial luster of his features seemed diminished, wearing him down into something more human. As though he might be a man.

"You have never been Mr. Weyland or Vickers," he said firmly. "I've followed you because I wanted to."

He released her hand and made a motion with his arm. The green glow disappeared and the harsher lighting returned. And David looked like David again, all beautiful polymers and biosythetic skin.


	10. Chapter 10

**Yellow Brick Road: Chapter 10**

* * *

"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close."_  
― _Pablo Neruda_, __ 100 Love Sonnets _

* * *

"I'm not wearing that."

David had worked on the two dark suits of armor they had found aboard the ship. They were huge, meant for the Engineers. He had fashioned them into something appropriate to her small frame, but the creation still seemed...ominous. It glinted like dark, polished bone and seemed...meaty. That wasn't metal. It was like an animal's hide, freshly tanned. She did not like it.

"It will offer some protection."

"I think it will suffocate me," she replied. Truly, it was only her paranoid imagination but she could imagine the armor squeezing her, like an insect in the maw of a Venus Flytrap.

"Do not be absurd," he said, looking offended.

Elizabeth crossed her arms and tapped her foot, but he stood his ground and merely stared at her.

"Fine," she said, unable to stand his steady blue gaze.

"I'll help you into it."

There was a time when Elizabeth might have told him to turn around, flushing like a maiden. At this point, it didn't matter. He knew her an she knew him. Even her unsightly scar did not bother her anymore. There was even a part of her that took perverse pleasure in quickly divesting herself of her clothes and down onto her underwear.

_Let him see_, she thought.

The suit was a single piece. First she put her feet in and then David pulled it up. She extended her arms and he tugged at it. It was snug. There didn't seem to be a zipper. It was more like a wetsuit than anything else. An intimidating looking one.

"I have gloves," he said.

"Of course you do," Elizabeth said rolling her eyes and she extended her right hand.

David tugged at a glove, fidgeting with it.

"This won't help much if they are hostile," she told him. "We don't have weapons."

She had been glad for that. The ship did not carry any dangerous materials. David had hypothesized it was a personnel or cargo carrier. She was simply glad they did not have to chuck thousands of canisters and bizarre biological weapons into space. Now she couldn't help but feel they might have had good use for a weapon.

"We can't fashion clubs and spears."

"Well, at least I can attempt to keep you in one piece," he said. "Your other hand, if you may."

She gave him her other hand and David tugged at the tight material of the gloves.

"It's made of a substance akin to chitin," he explained.

"Don't crustaceans have that?"

"And some insects. This suit is something similar to an exoskeleton."

"I feel like a beautiful beetle."

He flashed a smile at her and finished fastening the glove. Elizabeth wiggled her fingers and felt the tension of the material. It was flexible and strong at the same time.

"It's rather sturdy and should sustain quite some damage."

"Maybe the suit will last," she said. "But I'm not sure my body could take another beating. Besides, there is always decapitation..."

"There is a helmet," he said brightly.

Why was she not surprised? It was actually kind of...nice in a demented sort of way.

"Well, I suppose it might help," she muttered. "And you? Don't you need something similar?"

"I am not human."

"You can still be harmed."

"Not as you can be harmed," he said giving her a very human shrug.

David brushed her neck, tugging at a clasp. And he was done. She was dressed, snug inside her new garments.

They were standing very close. He was only inches from her. His proximity had once scared Elizabeth. She remembered keeping away from him; keeping to her quarters. Now he was right in front of her, so close their breath might mingle – if he needed to breath, he did not need to – if she only tilted her head a little.

She thought David had changed.

But he wasn't the only one who was changing.

David gave her a quizzical look and Elizabeth looked down, coughing.

"I should get out of this," she said. "It's making me claustrophobic."

"I'll assist you."

"I can manage," she said, tugging at the clasp. "After all, I'll have to get in and out of it by myself."

"Very well," he said.

David stepped back a few paces. As she tugged at her gloves, he turned around, giving her some privacy.

_An android and a gentleman_, she thought.

Laughter bubbled in her throat.

"What amuses, you Elizabeth?" he asked, his back to her.

"Sometimes I think you are the sweetest man I've ever known," she said. "Then I remember you are not a man."

"I wonder if that is a compliment."

"Take it as you will," she said as she finished dressing.

She tapped David on the shoulder to let him know he could turn and he did, looking down at her with a smug expression on his face.

"Then I will take it as a compliment," he said.

And, dear God, right then and there it would have been very easy to love him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Yellow Brick Road: Chapter 11**

* * *

When that I was and a little tiny boy,  
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,  
A foolish thing was but a toy,  
For the rain it raineth every day

– William Shakespeare, _Twelfth Night_

* * *

"I decoded the transmission," he said.

David was sitting on the pilot's chair and when he spoke the chair pivoted and swung in her direction.

"Anything interesting?" she asked.

She was examining the helmet he'd made for her. He'd given it to her just that morning, but she hadn't had the courage to put it on. It seemed heavy and...alien. It looked sturdy but she hoped she never had to wear it.

"Very. I think we are walking into the middle of a war zone."

"Meaning?"

"It is difficult to say exactly what I heard, but my best guess is your Engineer's are involved in some sort of civil war."

Elizabeth frowned. She had not expected that. She wondered if the alien ships were full to the hilt with bio-weapons like the one they had seen on LV-223. She wondered what war under their terms might mean and could not picture the magnitude of such destruction.

"Do you think we can evade their shipping lanes?"

"To a degree. I'll plot a new course," David said with a shrug. "However, eventually someone will spot us."

"Maybe we'll be lucky. We might make it to their planet in once piece."

_Then what, Elizabeth? _

Elizabeth placed the helmet on top of a console and hugged herself. They were going to die. Alone, in the coldness of space. They'd die.

_Have faith_, she thought. _Have faith, have faith_.

"David, what's your favorite book?" she asked, wishing to brush away thoughts of death and destruction.

"It's a play," he said.

"Which one?"

"_Twelfth Night_ ."

"So we both like stories about shipwrecks."

He smiled, effortlessly and fluidly. His smiles had been half-there when they'd first met. Gracious, artificial movements of the lips, but clearly mechanical. Now he smiled like he meant it.

"Have you seen it on stage?" she asked.

"I have not attended a theater performance," he said.

Of course. She could not think that people would want to take their androids to the theater. It would be the equivalent of hauling a toaster to a performance of La Traviata. There was no point in it. She could picture Charlie laughing at the mere suggestion of it.

"If we ever make it back to Earth," she said, "we should see a play together."

"We should also see _Lawrence of Arabia_ together," he said quickly.

She smiled and shook her head. "What is the appeal of that movie?"

"You'd have to see it to understand."

"I think it's very nearly sacred to you."

"I do not think I am equipped to consider anything sacrosanct," he said standing up and walking to her side.

She absentmindedly brushed a hand against the cross hanging from her neck. She thought of Charlie and there was this heavy slab of sadness falling over her. It would probably never stop hurting.

"I could dye my hair," David muttered. "If we return to Earth, that is."

_An android's vanity_ , she thought. David was already considering how he would groom himself.

"You must not dye it again," she said.

"Why not?"

"You look like yourself like this."

David looked down at her, clearly skeptical. He snorted, like a real man might.

"I always look like myself, Elizabeth," he said. "This is the physical configuration Mr. Weyland picked for me."

Elizabeth stood on the tip of her toes and reached out to touch his hair. It was longish and pleasantly tousled. He didn't look like Vickers and he didn't look like Weyland this way. He looked like the sum of himself _without_ Vickers or Weyland to mold him to their taste. He was not an android with a serial number engraved inside of him.

"Yes, but this is more _you_," she said and realized it was a poor explanation.

Elizabeth sighed, trying to figure out exactly what she was attempting to say. She did not like it when she confused him. He liked clear answers and she liked giving them to him.

"There is a whole line of David 8s, is there not?" she asked.

"Yes. There are lines of all kinds of androids."

"Well, they all look like you, do they not?"

"Of course."

"When you look like this, it's easy to separate you from the others. You are _my_ David."

Elizabeth pulled her hand down and dropped it at her side. David seemed to consider this for a few seconds.

"You are seeing me as an individual."

"Of course I see you as an individual."

"As a person?"

Charlie had always said androids couldn't be persons. Everyone always said that. Androids were...useful tools. A microwave didn't deserve a proper name nor did it have a personality. You didn't say 'please' or 'thank you' to the electric coffee maker.

"Well...yes," she said. "You know that."

Didn't he? Sometimes she wondered if David understood anything if she did not enunciate it. The subtleties of friendship or affection seemed to pass by him, unnoticed.

"You said I was not a man yesterday."

"You took it as a compliment."

He frowned, his voice suddenly shifting from its calm, cool tone to something more vehement. "I have never had a desire to be human. Your kind is deeply flawed. I am faster, more efficient, smarter than humans. Although I am compelled to understand you, I've never wanted to be one of your own."

"That sounds...very normal to me," Elizabeth said.

"Would you like me better if I was a man?"

The question was something a teenager might ask. Open and pointed. Elizabeth looked down at her shoes. She wondered if Charlie had not been right and it was better to...to keep synthetics in their right place. If not, they might ask uncomfortable questions. Like now.

_It doesn't matter_, she thought. _Whatever I thought, we thought, doesn't matter_.

"No," she said.

He seemed very pleased with the answer. David brushed his hands over one of the consoles, plotting a course for them.

"When that I was and a little tiny boy, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain," he hummed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Yellow Brick Road: Chapter 12**

* * *

'It isn't necessary to have something to believe in. It's only necessary to believe that somewhere there's something worthy of belief"  
― Alfred Bester, _The Stars My Destination_

* * *

Elizabeth was in bed when it began. The room was...trembling? Was she dreaming? No, it really was shaking. She reached towards the black armor and suited up, even putting on the dreaded helmet. The tremor...whatever it was...grew in intensity.

She headed out into the hallway and found a comm link panel. David had shown her how to activate it and when she slid her hand across it, it lit up. Several green characters blinked. It was a data stream and if the suit had been fully functional ( or so David had told her) she might have hooked into the main system just by touch alone. But the suit wasn't fully functional – David had spent 18 months using their technology and he could read the Engineer's files without any hassles, but even he had his limits – and she was reduced to good, old fashioned reading.

"Warning," she muttered.

Elizabeth pushed herself away from the wall and hurried down the hallway. There was a big quaking motion and it sent her slamming against the opposite wall.

The ship was...groaning. That's the best analogy she could come up with. Elizabeth looked down and saw there was some kind of semi-crystalline substance seeping from the walls. She leaned down to touch it, but was suddenly afraid.

She turned the corner and hurried down the hallway. The inside of the structure always reminded her of the belly of a whale, but after so many months she was used to the organic textures, the appearance of bones and muscle along the walls. Now it all looked more ominous.

The lights dimmed a little and Elizabeth stood very still.

What was happening? There was a comm link panel a few paces from her. She pressed her hand against it.

'Warning' it read, the three characters blinking.

"Shit!" she muttered.

The hallway was now in semi-darkness and the tremors were increasing. She needed to get into the control room, and fast.

Elizabeth ran. She skidded, slipping on some of the liquid that was now seeping from several sections of the ship's walls, and pulled herself up. A large chunk of the wall seemed to splinter and collapse, shattering like glass.

Elizabeth kept going. Her heart was pounding. Fear gave her another burst of speed. She was very close to the control room, but as she rushed forward a section of the ceiling gave in and smashed against the floor, shards of glass – chitin, whatever it was – jumping and splintering her.

Elizabeth gasped and looked at her right arm. The shards were sticking out, long and menacing. She took a deep breath and realized they had not penetrated the armor. However, just as she rushed forward, the hallway door closed and locked.

Shit.

The hallway went very dark. Elizabeth stood there, for a full minute, terrified.

_Think, think, think_.

She slid her hand against the wall until she found one of the comm links and touched it. It flashed the usual warning and she touched it again and again. Hopefully David would notice this and pinpoint her location. Hopefully David was still around.

The ship shivered and sighed. The hallway went completely dark. The green glow of the comm panel provided the only light around her. Elizabeth kept her hand pressed against it and closed her eyes.

"Our Father in heaven_,_ hallowed be your name," she whispered.

Her arm was trembling. The ship had gone silent.

" Your kingdom come, your will be done."

There she was, in the absolute darkness, in the absolute silence.

"Elizabeth!"

She jumped up. Her eyes opened wide. She pressed herself against the door, slamming her hands against it.

"David! The path is blocked!"

"I need to override it manually."

"Hurry!"

"Wait a minute."

Elizabeth swallowed, her fingers curling into fists by her side. The door raised and she stumbled forward. David caught her, steadying her.

"Are you injured?" he asked, looking concerned.

"No," she muttered.

"I need to seal the passage again and we'll go to the control room."

"What is happening?" she asked as he tapped into one of the comm panels.

"A ship spotted us and attacked," David said. "We got away, just not..."

"...in one piece?" Elizabeth offered.

"Something like that. There."

When he was done he turned to Elizabeth and offered her his hand. She grabbed it.

#

"Take the suit off," he said when they walked into the control room. "I need to make sure you are okay."

There was plenty of light there and she saw the star charts glowing above their heads. Planets glowed and drifted in slow motion, tracing elliptic orbits.

Elizabeth took off the helmet and tugged at the clothes, pausing to look at the dark shards embedded on the suit's arm.

"Your armor saved my life," she said.

"That's what it's for," he replied. "Let me look at you."

"There's nothing wrong," she said.

Her skin looked unblemished. Nothing had pierced the dark biosuit. David, however, did not seem satisfied. He inspected her hands and stared at her skin as though he was checking every single pore.

"I swear I'm okay," she said.

Their eyes met and he nodded.

"How's the ship?"

"There is extensive damage. I have rerouted power from most of the sectors. The water and nutrition system has been compromised. There are enough rations for seven, maybe eight days."

"Can we move?" she asked. "Could you land us in a life-bearing system?"

"We are currently drifting in space. I'm keeping the engines offline. "

"But could we–"

"There is a functional cryopod. But if I try to navigate, we'll waste the energy reserves."

Elizabeth pressed her hands against her face. She wanted to scream. She wanted to weep. She slid down and sat on the floor. He sat next to her and held her hand.

He seemed concerned. Not for his own safety, probably: he wouldn't need food or water. He could drift through space for years and years and keep functioning. But she...she would die. He was worried and she knew it.

She constantly doubted the authenticity of David's expressions, of his voice and his remarks. He was programmed to simulate feelings, to respond to gestures, but it was an actor's repertoire. As she looked at him now she thought he meant it. He worried for her.

"If you go into cryosleep–"

"The ship's bleeding," Elizabeth said nonchalantly. "There's stuff coming out of the walls. It's dying. How long would I have?"

"Yes, I supposed you could say it's 'dying,'" David replied. "But you would have longer than if–"

"Does longer matter?" she asked, glancing at him. " If you could pilot the ship if you turn off the cryo chamber...if only one of us is going to make it out of this, maybe..."

...maybe it should be him. Elizabeth was only brittle bones and muscles. David was an android. He could survive. He could actually reach the stars she'd yearned for.

"There is nothing in the desert and no man needs nothing," he said, his hand tightening around hers.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't you still have your faith?" he asked.

"Oh, God, David," she groaned.

She was going to start shrieking any second now. She would collapse against the floor and maybe stab herself with one of those crystalline shards. Put an end to this nonsense.

"I can have faith for both of us," he said, his face so earnest.

"David," she muttered, touching his cheek. She could feel the tears welling. "I don't think that's possible."

"I want to think it is," he said very quietly.

Elizabeth surprised herself when she kissed him. She didn't intend to. But she was going to die. She was going to die and she might as well kiss him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him gently. He did not really kiss her back. He didn't know how to kiss. His lips were shut in a tight line.

He watched her, curious, as she pulled away.

"Sor–," Elizabeth began.

David pulled her against him and kissed her full on the lips. She recalled that he'd kissed her once before, but on the check and it had been a chaste, small gesture. This was different. He had learned something. Her breath caught in her throat and she dug her fingers into his shoulders.

Elizabeth managed to pull back.

"You don't want me," she said.

_You can't_, she thought. She remembered the commercials she'd seen: advanced emotional encoding, facial recognition via proprietary expression mapping, human-like cybernetic unit. And she thought how she'd told him he was a person to her, that he didn't need to be human...

"I don't know," he said. If he'd been human she was sure David would have blushed.

He kissed her again. She trembled.

"Do you want me?" he asked.

She nodded and buried her face against his chest. His hands trailed down her back, pleasantly tracing her spine.

"Can you tell me you love me?"

She looked up quickly at him. "Hu?"

"In the movies, people say 'I love you,'" he explained.

"Life isn't like the movies."

"I know," he said.

"Is that what you wanted, to be like in the movies?" she asked.

"Maybe. I'm not sure."

She cupped his face between her hands. "I do love you."

"I do love you," he said and she was not sure if he was simply imitating her.

And then it didn't matter because he was kissing her again, and then they were naked, and it felt real.

Note: This is probably ending next chapter or two.


	13. Chapter 13

**Yellow Brick Road: Chapter 13**

* * *

"Journeys end in lovers meeting,  
Every wise man's son doth know."

_Twelfth Night _(II, iii, 44-45)

* * *

**Note:** There's sexy times ahead, so you may want to skip/not read the first part of this chapter.

I've been listening to "IBM 1401, a User's Manual" while writing this fic, and it seems to fit just fine. And David and Elizabeth's love scene was written with "The Sun's Gone Dim and The Sky's Black," which is the last track on that album. Oh, and this is ending next chapter (so now's a good time to throw me a review).

* * *

Elizabeth felt…displaced. No wonder, since there was a great deal of confusion filtering through her brain. Frankly, she was a bit terrified. She'd had her share of lovers, but she had no idea how a synthetic was supposed to function.

David looked real enough. His skin was pale and perfect. His arms were strong. The muscles taut, though she wasn't sure those were muscles at all…not in the human sense. And though she really didn't want to dwell on the differences between a synth and a human – and though she was half-intoxicated with desire – apprehension kept returning.

All of her knowledge seemed…irrelevant. Should she pull him close? Would he mind if she touched him? Should her arms remain by her side or would it be better to place them around his neck? All these little things she never wondered about when she was with other men.

It didn't help that he was being so damn slow. Carefully running his hands down her body, tilting his head and looking at her breasts, her legs. When he tried to touch the scar marring her abdomen, she swathed his hand away.

"Will you hurry?" she asked, because she was going to lose her nerve.

David chuckled and she could swear that was a cocky little look on his face, though androids probably shouldn't do cocky.

He kissed her. It was sweet, the way he did it. There was an odd respect to it, and to his soft touches as he ran his fingers across her hips. And then the glints of satisfaction, of approval, when he discovered something she liked. He was probably analyzing her. Figuring her out, the way he figured out an alien language or understood how to pilot the ship.

It irritated her to picture herself as a blueprint he was scanning and she closed her eyes, frowning.

"Look at me."

She looked up to his eyes. They were very blue and very beautiful. She'd always liked them, since they'd first met. She knew them well by now, though they seemed different right that instant. Same color, same everything…but something else she could not pinpoint.

"Don't look away," he said.

"Okay," she muttered.

He grasped her hips and lifted her slightly. And then they were together. He filled her completely and Elizabeth gasped.

There was no hesitation in him as he drew in and out of her. It emboldened her. She'd always been fearless, hadn't she? Now was not the time to act like a coward. Elizabeth wrapped her legs around him.

It felt right. It felt fine.

Elizabeth arched her back and brushed a strand of hair from his face.

He smiled. His eyes…Elizabeth realized what the something she was recognizing was…a touch of wonder, like when he looked at the star maps.

#

She lay naked, on the floor of an alien ship, her limbs tangled with the limbs of an android. If someone had told her that's the way it would end, she would have laughed.

"Well, I suppose it was meant to be," she muttered. "People who like plays about shipwrecks are bound to end up together…shipwrecked."

Elizabeth stared at the weird texture of the ceiling and let out a sigh. "I'm activating the distress beacon," David said.

Elizabeth leaned on her elbow and looked down at him.

"Wouldn't that be the dumb thing to do?"

"We are in distress."

"Yes, and as soon as they hear our signal they'll come and kill us."

"There are two factions in this conflict. Perhaps the old adage 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' might prove to be true."

"What do you think are the odds of that?"

"Sufficient."

He took hold of her hand, apparently very interested in tracing the veins on her wrist with his fingertips.

"You could go into the cryopod," he offered.

For how long? How long could she sleep inside that thing? Weeks, months, years? It was a slow death and nothing more. Elizabeth shook her head.

"No."

"Then you will remain awake and I will activate the distress beacon," he said.

"David…"

"I am doing it," he said.

His tone did not allow for any other option. Elizabeth scoffed at his stubbornness. He was going to get both of them killed. Well, at least that might be a quicker death than floating around in the quiet dark, asleep in a cryopod.

David stood up. She saw him pad towards the control chair and his fingers danced over the instruments. Elizabeth turned her back towards him. He returned to her side a few minutes later. He lay next to her, as though it were the most natural occurrence. As though they had been lovers for ages and ages.

"It's not quite like the movies, is it?" she whispered. "Heroes always ride off towards the sunset. They don't wait in the dark."

They were quiet for a long time.

"Can you tell me a story?" she asked, eventually.

"Which one?"

"Whichever one you like. Something with a happy ending."

He seemed to think about it, carefully mulling the options.

"We skipped _The Wizard of Oz_."

Yes they had. It had been too personal, too much. Now it did not matter. She'd revealed herself completely to him.

"Dorothy lived in the midst of the great Kansas prairies, with Uncle Henry, who was a farmer, and Aunt Em, who was the farmer's wife. Their house was small, for the lumber to build it had to be carried by wagon many miles..."

Elizabeth closed her eyes. She felt his hand resting against her hip, drawing her closer.


	14. Chapter 14

**Yellow Brick Road: Chapter 14**

* * *

"One of the strange things about living in the world is that it is only now and then one is quite sure one is going to live forever and ever and ever…Then sometimes the immense quiet of the dark blue at night with the millions of stars waiting and watching makes one sure; and sometimes a sound of far-off music makes it true; and sometimes a look in someone's eyes."

― Frances Hodgson Burnett, _The Secret Garden_

* * *

**Note: **Final chapter. I wrote it while listening to Mogwai's "Take Me Somewhere Nice"

* * *

David's chin was resting on her shoulder. He didn't sleep, but he was content to lay next to her. Content to wait.

They had been waiting for five days.

They talked. He recited all of _The Wizard of Oz_ for her. In the silent spaces littered across the cabin she thought about her family. Her mother. Her father. Charlie. She daydreamed about that fantastical island of her childhood and heading inland, towards a distant jungle.

They made love twice more and he told her it was more pleasant than playing basketball or watching films. It made her laugh, though she knew he meant well and it was high praise.

They lay together and he touched her hair.

A buzzing noise made her shift and turn, frowning. David stood up and went towards the control panels, his hands pulling holographic displays down. He nodded.

"There's a ship approaching. I've hailed them."

They stared at each other. Elizabeth started putting on the black armor. David had pulled the shards sticking out of arm, but it wasn't mended properly. She supposed it didn't matter. He got dressed too and looked at the controls, characters floating in the air before his face.

"They are going to board us now," David said.

Elizabeth flexed her fingers and thought about putting on the gloves. But she wanted to touch him. He slid by her side, his hand brushing her own. With her free hand, Elizabeth touched her neck, felt the little cross at her throat.

The doors opened and three figures walked in. They wore long indigo robes and were as tall as the Engineer they had met before. There was a female, flanked by two males. Her head was bald like the males, but her features were more angular and delicate. All three of them had tattooed their faces and their heads in different patterns; spirals of blue and green.

"Identify," said one of the males.

David spoke. He was too fast and Elizabeth only caught snippets here and there: system, ship, accident. He walked towards a console and activated a star map, pointing to it. He said their names out loud: Elizabeth and David. The trio nodded their understanding.

"Salvage," said the other male and then a string of other words.

David's eyes narrowed. He felt his hand tightening slightly around hers, then releasing her.

"What?" she asked. "Can we go with them?"

"They'll take you."

"You mean they'll take us," she said, glancing up at him.

"Only you."

"What? Why?" she asked.

"They don't seem to like synthets."

Elizabeth looked at the three aliens. They were standing with their hands neatly folded before them, waiting.

"I don't understand," she said in their language, the syllables clumsy in her mouth.

"You will not make a machine in your image," one of the men told her, speaking slowly. "It…known."

"David's not a machine," she sputtered, shaking her head.

She felt David's hands heavy upon her shoulders. He turned her around, forcing Elizabeth to look at him, his face stiff and serious, but not afraid. He couldn't – wouldn't? – be afraid.

"Go with them. Logic dictates it: this is your best outcome."

"Logic?" she said, scoffing.

"Do not refuse them," David said, his voice low. "There will be no other chances."

He was right. They were damn lucky they had not been blown out of the sky yet, even more lucky that they were being offered "salvage," even if it was for a single passenger. Elizabeth should be running to their ship this very instant. After all, they were right: this was a machine. It was the equivalent of leaving your calculator behind.

Elizabeth brushed David's hands aside and took a few steps towards them, incredulous.

"Why can't he come?"

"No…life essence. Pattern…folds…life essence," the man told her and Elizabeth wished she understood better, but she didn't want David to translate. She wanted to speak on her own.

Life essence. What was that? Were they referring to the _soul_? She recalled Weyland's little speech aboard the Prometheus when he'd made a point about David's lack of soul.

Toaster's don't go to heaven. Microwaves don't feel. Androids can't have souls. She had agreed with this.

She hadn't known David.

"No, but you don't understand…David is a person," she said, pressing a hand against her chest. "He's like me. We aren't any different."

The three Engineers looked at her, impassive. She supposed a human's reaction would have been the same and she supposed as a human her only alternative was to bid him goodbye.

Elizabeth turned towards David and looked at him. His eyes were a calm blue. He did not seem greatly mortified. She imagined it would really make no difference to him if he remained there, alone in the darkness, thinking of his movies and his books.

She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I'm not leaving," she said and turning her face to look at them she repeated it, louder. "I'm not leaving him."

David stared at her and there was a very human surprise in his eyes. And…sadness? His lips curved, bittersweet, a finger brushing her lips.

"What a curious sight," the woman said, speaking for the first time. Her tone was practical and self-assured. "I think Io might want to see it. Odd...Come then, if you'll come. Your ship is falling apart."

Elizabeth gripped David's hand and took a cautious step, following the woman. The others made no attempt to stop them and she let out a shivering sigh.

#

"Where we are headed…she calls it 'The Gate.' It might be a space station, I'm not sure," David said.

She was letting him translate now. Elizabeth's brain was simply too fried to attempt cohesive thoughts. They had just reached a connecting bridge which the Engineers had used to board their ship. It was very pale and fleshy looking, like the belly of a fish. Elizabeth could see a door which must led into their ship proper.

"We've called her kind 'Engineers.' Can you ask them what their name really is?"

David spoke. The woman was walking ahead and turned her face a fraction of an inch, giving them a small smile.

"'Messenger' would be more appropriate, she says."

There were other questions, of course, but they were reaching the door. It slid aside and they were inside the ship. It looked as organic as the vessel they had lived on, though the angles seemed different than what she'd grown used to. The ceiling was extremely high and as Elizabeth looked up, she thought of a cathedral. The cupule – should she call it that? – was made of glass and one could see the stars spreading above them.

Elizabeth paused, staring up.

Though there was no jungle and no beach, she thought this moment resembled the dreams of her childhood: the unknown, offering itself to her. This was the moment she had waited for her entire life.

David also stared at the sky. She'd seen him do this many times before, craning his neck up and admiring the maps with their myriads of galaxies and distant suns. He paused, glancing down at her.

"I love you," he said and he spoke very slowly, as if rehearsing the words; testing them. Then he nodded, apparently convinced they were the right ones. "I love you."

Elizabeth thought about all the impossibilities of this moment knotted inside her. She squeezed his hand.

"I know," she replied.

He smiled at her. The fathomless sky, like a sea with no shores, spread above their heads. And maybe this journey was faith, fate or folly, but she did not care. She did not care as long as he was with her.

The End


End file.
